


a world without you

by missingyou



Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Needs a Hug, But not on purpose, Clark is Confused, Confessions, M/M, Protective Bruce Wayne, and angry, bruce is an ass, he just cares, they're both idiots, very angry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingyou/pseuds/missingyou
Summary: He was angry, that was all that was registered, and the stoic man before him just made the twist in his stomach burn.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 120





	a world without you

**Author's Note:**

> here we go again...

He was fuming, and visibly so as his chest heaved inconsistent compared to his usual practiced breaths. Laying on the med table, hand against his three inch stab, Bruce simply watched the other pace back and forth, focus switching from the man himself to the glass displaying the endless space surrounding them. This was routine due to Clark's persistence. At one point, the hero would soon have to realize that sacrificing himself for the better of others is _just what Batman does._

Was it that bothersome? The billionaire thought monotonously as his expression was simply bored, tired, and in slight pain.

"I wonder why," Clark- Well, honestly this was Superman speaking, not a simple Kansas reporter, but the leader of the Justice League, and the closest to God Bruce thinks he'll ever get. Furrowing his eyebrows, the raven haired man silently registered the other's comment, and the thought of telepathy crossed his mind before he realized that it was simply the predictability of their scenario. Shouldn't that be a hint, then, to give this act up? The questioned stayed in the back of his mind once the Kyrptonian opened his mouth to speak again.

"Three inches, Bruce, that knife could've gone straight through you." Still firm in his tone, but his eyes were soft as he spoke and suddenly the Bat felt as though he was drinking a warm cup of tea. A simple feeling, but memorable nonetheless, and he supposed the pain medication left his thought process too slow to reject the feeling completely. "Three inch stab wound, a broken wrist, bruises all over your body, and a sprained ankle."

"Sounds like a good night," he spoke dryly, sarcasm lacing his tone. He was yet to decide if the glare he received afterward was worth it. He bit the inside of his cheek, and subconsciously pouted (subconsciously, he would like to emphasize, because he would never normally do something so immature) as the medicine dazed his thoughts just enough for him to release any tension he carried. He still sat with his posture perfectly straight, simply in a pair of dark grey Armani joggers. 

"Bruce, you shouldn't be getting that hurt when Diana and I are on the scene."

"Superman, I'm not sure you understand how this works." He sighed, "It's part of the deal when I put the cowl on, and armor can only protect me-"

_"That hit was meant for me!"_

Anyone passing by stopped their movements as the yell reverberated through the walls, because Superman yelling was scarcely ever done, better yet heard in the watchtower or anywhere remotely public. It was silence in the med-bay, and Bruce's peripheral vision allowed for him to see Diana, then Hal, and Wally peek their heads in to see what the fuss was about, only to back slowly out of the room once they realized this was between them.

"Superman-"

"It was meant for me, Bruce." he calmed only slightly, his volume still raised and his fists clenched and suddenly the Dark Knight was realizing this would lead somewhere else. To what? his brain was still trying to rationalize that other half of the equation. "I can't believe you-"

"The knife was laced, as were the rest of the hits I took-"

_"Since when does that matter? In any case I have a higher possibility of surviving than you!"_

"Kal," his voice was leveled, hoarse but leveled as he spoke, and there was a variable he wasn't taking into account because a simply injury wouldn't elicit a reaction such as this. From the sound of his birth name, it seemed he slightly calmed, but the man before him, dressed in his uniform still (it'd have to be hours since he needed to wear that, Bruce noticed, meaning he had been in tower before and after the stitches), pinched the space between his perfect brows as he exuded utter frustration. "Kal, a possibility is not guaranteed, and in any moment where that percentage is compromised I must step in. We've gone over this, why is this circumstance any different?"

"Because you could've died, right there Bruce, I had noticed your heartbeat slowing forty-five seconds after the initial pierce. Why is it in your head my life can be saved for the cost of yours?"

"I had restrained the hemorrhage just enough to set that back, you could've finished the fight and waited for an ambulance and the tendon struck wouldn't have killed me. You know that."

"Bruce," the final piece of the equation, his logic chimed in. Clark was finally going to say- "Please, why am I valued more than you?"

"What an idiotic question." His reply was simple, and he wasn't sure a longer one was necessary. Clark's face transitioned: angry, sad, angry, and then finally an expression that was pure worry.

"Then, answer it."

"Kal, you come from a planet, that is now destroyed along with it's inhabitants, which produced men and women of your caliber, to which we only have a handful of today," a raise of an eyebrow from Bruce's behalf, "I am a man, human may I add bitterly, who dresses up at night and scares the shit out of people. Something that Joker, Arrow, hell, even Flash has replicated." (maybe he added Wally in simply because he knew he was eavesdropping.)

"So, tell me which is more replaceable." His mouth formed a flat, unimpressed line as Clark furrowed his eyebrows.

"Bruce, I get it. I can understand the mindset, hell I can even respect it in a morbid way once you realize the acceptance of your mortality and your contingencies as a result," Clark sighed, not the exhausted slightly pain induced ones Bruce let out, bt one that actually sound like what he would say next would take a physical toll on him. "But, fuck it Bruce, to me you're not anywhere near replaceable."

He bit his cheek, attempting to formulate reasoning behind his teammates statement, and didn't allow himself to ever consider it be remotely anything other than friendly care.

"I get it-"

"No," he smiled, "No you really don't." 

"I'm saying, Bruce, that I can't wake up without thinking about you, I can't go through my day without tracking your heartbeat or making sure your eating, I can't not go out of my way to contact Alfred and the kids."

Interesting.

"I have made all efforts to keep my distance, but Jesus Christ, Bruce, I want to be in your life. _I don't want to go to bed thinking of you from across cities, I want to fall asleep next to you after long day._ "

"Wally, Hal, Diana, out." he ordered, and watch Clark grow flabbergasted for a second before smiling widely once he realized what they'd been doing. Once the confirmation of their scurrying footsteps fell out of his range, immediately Bruce stood from his bed.

He walked toward the other, keeping his core clenched due to his slight nerves even if it stretched his wound, and he stared up at the other and simply allowed himself to look.

His chiseled facial structure, perfect skin, glowing smile.

Disregarding the terrible ache from his broken wrist, Bruce immediately leaned forward and finally had a taste of the man that he'd been thinking about forever.

It was everything he'd expected and more, because in his dreams Clark would always pull away, but this time around he simply pulled Bruce closer and pressed his hand on his side, applying just enough pressure for his wound as his other hand did the same for his broken joint. His lips were soft, and he tasted of candy apple.

Fitting, Bruce thought.

"Damn it, Bruce," They pulled apart, and reality sunk in as he watched a certain doubt express in Clark's eyes. Of course, he closed his eyes for a tenth of a second and clenched his jaw, he would never be prized with such a joy. And so, as a result he attempted to take several steps back, unable to lift his silver eyes because suddenly it felt like there was a blockage in his throat and chest. Clark laughed, and pulled him closer the minute he felt any resistance as he kissed his forehead. _It's real, he communicated, this was real._

"Don't you dare try to leave, and stop overthinking. I'm simply regretting that I said all that in front of them."

"What? That you can't wait to sleep with me?"

The mortified expression and slight blush on the other's face told Bruce all he needed to know as he gave a signature Brucie wink.


End file.
